


Pretty Good Bad Idea

by Floral_Murdock



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Defenders Secret Santa Gift Exchange, F/M, Fluff, Mistletoe, coffee dates, post season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9047927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floral_Murdock/pseuds/Floral_Murdock
Summary: Summary: My contribution for the Defenders Secret Santa Fic Exchange. The prompt was "Matt/Claire, mistletoe or Christmas themed." Or, post- season 1, Matt thanks Claire by taking her out for coffee. Things escalate from there.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imaginationofadreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginationofadreamer/gifts).



Claire heard a knock at the door, and went out into the living room to answer it. 

"Hey," Matt was standing in the hallway, fully upright and miraculously unbruised. Claire took a minute to appreciate the uncommon sight of an uninjured Matt before she let him into the apartment. 

"Hey. So, what's the plan for today?" Matt had called her last week, asking if he could take her out for coffee, and, as far as Claire could tell, chat about non-Daredevil-related things --- essentially, a platonic coffee date. Claire wasn't about to reject the offer of coffee with cute men, even if said men were Satan-themed vigilantes of dubious mental health. 

"Um, I was just thinking that we could go get coffee, and go walk around the park? It's supposed to be decorated for Christmas, I think," he added, as if he could appreciate Christmas decorations. Maybe he could. Hell if Claire knew how the whole "world on fire" thing worked. 

"Sounds good." Claire got her coat and scarf, and set off next to Matt. Once they made it to the street, they went in the direction of Matt's apparent coffee shop of chlot of people on the sidewalk, a mixture of last-minute Christmas shoppers and unfortunate tourists who had gotten lost and ended up in Hell's Kitchen. Matt's hand hovered over the back of her elbow. 

"May I?" Claire was confused for a minute, until she realized he was asking her to guide him. Right, that. Claire had rarely interacted with Matt during daylight hours, and never in public. 

"Sure." He held onto her arm until they reached the coffeeshop, which he pointed out subtly as they approached. 

"There." 

Claire was grateful for the warmth as they entered. It was small and dimly lit, but in a homey rather than dingy way. The wood paneling on the lower part of the wall had to be at least thirty years old, but it looked like it had been cleaned fairly recently. Overall, the store was nice, but decidedly un-hipstery. Most importantly, the entire space smelled like brewing coffee. 

Claire claimed a table by a window, while Matt went up to order coffee. "Just plain coffee, right?" 

"Yes, please." 

"Milk or sugar?" 

"Just a little bit of sugar."

Matt came back a couple minutes later. When they called out that Matt and Claire's coffees were done, Claire went up to get them. 

When she sat back down again, she took a sip of her coffee and contemplated Matt over her coffee. He put a surprising amount of sugar in it. 

Matt smiled ruefully. "It took me a long time to be able to drink coffee without milk in it, and I still put too much sugar in." He must have been able to feel her looking. Not for the first time, Claire felt like Matt's senses almost allowed him to read minds. 

She wondered for a moment what taste was like for him. If he could block things out at will, like he could with pain, or if it was all so intense that it was unpleasant. 

"How's work?" Matt interrupted her train of thought.

"It's alright, same as ever. How's yours?"

"We have a few more clients after the Fisk case, so that's good." Matt tapped his fingers absently against the table. "We actually got paid in money a couple times, Foggy was overjoyed." 

"What do you usually get paid in?"

"Food, mostly." Matt smiled. He looked incredibly beautiful, the light of the window illuminating his pretty mouth and glinting off of his red-tinted glasses. That's not all there is to him, Claire reminded herself. Just because he was cute and charming, didn't mean that he wasn't hurtling further towards an imminent disaster every time he put on the mask. 

They chatted like that for a few more minutes, talking about their daily lives --- which meant work, mostly, as neither of them did much outside of work, with the exception of Matt's nighttime activities. For obvious reasons, they couldn't discuss that in public. Not that Claire wanted to, anyway. Matt was a lot more enjoyable when he wasn't talking about how he Was the Night, or whatever it was this week. 

When they were both finished their coffee, Matt got up. "Do you want to go to the park now?"

"Sure, let's go." They stood up, and Matt rested his hand lightly on her arm again. 

"Is this okay?" Matt looked at her, expectant.

"Yeah." Matt was fine, but Claire was starting to feel her face heat up regardless. She willed herself to stop blushing. He could probably sense it through temperature variations in the air or something. 

The park was quiet, as it was cold and close to Christmas. The sunlight streaming through the bare trees made patterns on the grass. A couple passed by, two young women walking hand in hand. 

They walked together for a while. Matt was right, some areas were decorated. Claire described the decorations, unsure if he could tell what they looked like, or just where they were. 

"Over there is a little reindeer cutout --- it's all white, and glittery. That's a tiny Christmas tree over there, and above us. . ." Claire hesitated, heart pounding like she was fifteen all over again. She felt vaguely ridiculous.  
"Yeah?" Matt looked like he genuinely didn't know what it was. She could totally avoid this situation, no problem. 

". . . Mistletoe." She tried and failed to keep her tone light as her cheeks lit up again. 

At least Matt had the grace to look awkward as well, shifting back and forth anxiously. 

Claire leaned in. Matt's hand came up to meet her jaw. He bent down slightly to bring his lips to hers. 

It was chaste and fairly quick. However, Matt had pressed his lips to hers firmly, and lingered as he pulled away. Just like the last time she had kissed Matt, it was incredibly gentle and sweet. 

She'd promised herself that she wasn't going to get involved with Matt again, but God, she wanted to. She still wasn't over him, even after seeing the fallout of his crappy decisions time and time again. 

"So." Matt pulled back, ducking his head down to hide his blush. It was unfairly attractive. 

"So." Claire echoed, unsure of what to say. 

"Do you want to go ---" he gestured awkwardly to a bench a few feet away. 

"Sure." They went and sat down, one at each end. They were both far too uncomfortable to make an effort to close the gap. 

Claire looked at Matt for a long moment. There was a fading yellowing bruise under his left eye. It was covered mostly by his glasses, but, in the daylight, it was just barely visible. Once Claire saw it, she had a hard time un-seeing it. "What are we doing, Matt?"

"I'm sorry I kissed you." Matt sounded forlorn.

Claire rolled her eyes, even though the gesture was probably lost on Matt. "Stop it. I'm not looking for the guilt. I asked what we were doing, not just you." 

"Then I'm not really sure what you mean." 

Claire sighed. "Are we just going to ignore the fact that we're into each other, end up making out every now and then, and then go back to ignoring it? Because there has to be a better solution than that." 

"Well, if we ignore it long enough, it'll just go away. We just won't feel it anymore," Matt said, as if that made perfect, logical sense. 

"That is. . . Aggressively Catholic of you," Claire said, her voice neutral as she could make it.

Matt laughed humorlessly. "Well, being raised by nuns will do that." 

Raised by nuns, what the Hell? Did they even still make Catholic orphanages? Claire decided to just leave that statement alone. 

"Do you actually believe that's how people work? Because I don't." 

Matt shrugged. "I don't see any other option. We can't be together. I'm not going to stop doing what I do." 

"Actually, I don't really have a problem with what you do. I wish you'd be more careful, and that you'd put some planning in before you end up fighting, like, a dozen guys at once ---"

"I've never fought a dozen people at once, I don't enjoy getting beat up ---" 

"---but I don't actually disagree with what you do." 

Matt was struck silent, his eyebrows nearly disappearing beneath his tousled fringe. Claire sighed. 

"If I didn't like what you did, would I really haul myself out of bed in the middle of the night---" she dropped her voice low, making sure that no one was around to overhear, "--- to come stitch you up?" 

"Foggy helps me, and he hates what I do," Matt pointed out. 

"Foggy knew you before you started. . . All this, and he didn't know what you were capable of." Claire shot back. 

"Yeah, you have a point." the side of Matt's mouth quirked up. Claire silently congratulated herself on her success. 

"I wouldn't have a problem with what you do at night, if you were more careful." 

"But. . . I enjoy it." Matt said quietly.

"Yeah, you've said that. And I think you do like the adrenaline rush of doing what you're doing, but I think you'd be way too guilty to do it if you actually enjoyed hitting people." 

Matt shrugged noncommittally. He switched topics abruptly. "Why are we talking about this?" His expression suggested that he already knew. 

Claire sighed, but then she smiled. "I want to try again. With us." 

Matt's face lit up. "I'd like that, too." He was silent for a moment, and his expression turned pensive. "This is. . . you said before that you wanted me to be more careful. We should probably, uh. . . Is there anything else you want from me?" 

"Well, I already said I wanted you to be more careful, and it would be nice if you, like, sat down and thought it through before you took on the entirety of the Russian mafia by yourself or something. But I realize that you're probably not going to do either of those things, and I'm not going to back out if you don't. I know what I'm getting into, and I've accepted that." 

"I think I can do that. The being more careful, that is. But I have something to ask you." He said gravely, turning more fully towards Claire. 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you want to go to go to dinner next weekend?" 

Claire groaned. "That was terrible, I hope you realize that. But yeah, that sounds nice." 

Matt smiled. "Does six work?" 

"Yeah, that's fine." 

An alarm on Claire's phone went off, and she glanced at it quickly.  
"I should probably go. I have work in an hour." 

"Alright. Can I walk you home?" 

Matt started off holding her elbow, but his hand started slipping lower and lower on her arm as they walked. Claire caught his hand, and intertwined his fingers with her own. 

When they reached Claire's door, they kissed again. It was much less chaste this time, but every bit as gentle and sweet. Claire considered ushering him inside so that they weren't making out in the hallway, but she figured that Matt would know if Mrs. Dias from across the hall was about to come out and see. 

"Goodbye." Matt turned to leave, cane tapping in front of him. Claire felt affection well up inside her. As much as Matt was a hot mess, he was also genuinely sweet and doing his best. Claire might just be ready to take Matt Murdock, messes and all.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! My Tumblr is Floral-Murdocks, if you want to come say hi. Happy holidays!


End file.
